


I.C.E.

by kethni



Category: Veep (TV)
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Making Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-04-03 20:00:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14003607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kethni/pseuds/kethni
Summary: ‘You’re assuming that breaking up with you was easy and that I didn’t regret it. You’re wrong.’





	I.C.E.

**Author's Note:**

> For anonymous, who wanted a post-breakup reconciliation fic.

 

He could hear her from his office. All day, every day, he heard her berating anyone stupid enough to incur her displeasure. He knew that tone. He’d learned to dread that tone. In the dying days of their relationship he had heard it with depressing regularity. It was the sound of disappointment. That hurt more than the looks of irritation and refused physical affection. Not sex, the amount remained consistent if not the mood, but affection. As their relationship had faltered, he had needed more touches, more gentleness and tenderness. As their relationship had faltered, she had found his touches intolerable, and pushed away everything but the basely carnal. Embracing after sex became harshly denied. In a way that had directly led to their breakup. She refused to countenance affection after sex and he refused sex without it.

She had called him womanly, which baffled. She called him unbalanced, which irritated. She had called him pathetic, which hurt the worst of all. Kent had his faults. He would be the first to admit it. He worked too hard. He wasn’t inquisitive enough. He was poor at picking up on social cues.

He wasn’t unbalanced. He was sure of that. He had been accused of a great many things in his life but never that.

***

In a way it was better when she was snarling and snapping at him. That meant that she was still angry. It meant that she still cared. He never returned her antagonism. Oh, he had held his own in arguments when they were together, but now he accepted her barbs and blows. He took them as a kind of penance. As if he could earn back her good graces by patience and perseverance.

No. He knew that would be a pipedream. He had no hopes, only regrets. Not that he dated her. Only that things had ended and ended badly.

Kent had relationships that failed before. Some of them were his fault and some of them weren’t. This was the first time that he had to continue to work alongside a former partner. The first time that the wound wasn’t allowed to heal but was constantly being reopened.

Was that all it was? It certainly hadn’t been the longest relationship that he’d had. It barely lasted four months. He’d been with Idira almost four years and Josh for six. They were the longest. Kyril and Miranda had been the shortest at a few weeks each. He hadn’t had a great many relationships and he remembered each of them. Nonetheless, Sue was proving difficult to put into the proper context.

***

He was still sleeping badly. They had always slept together at her home. She’d never set foot in his. Perhaps that had been a sign, although of what he wasn’t precisely sure. He had let her set the pace without demur. Perhaps that had been an error. Perhaps he should have been firmer.

But that wasn’t him. He didn’t dominate romantically and his preference for strong, determined partners meant he was often rather more compliant than was wise. Well. He was too old to change now. Old and alone.

Kent stared at the ceiling as his cat pushed under his arm. He had liked Sue, genuinely liked her. She had a quick and sly sense of humour. She respected herself and insisted other people respect her. More than all that though there were little, rare, moments when she opened up to let him see some vulnerability and tenderness.

She’d been bullied at school. He had too. It was something they’d never expected to have in common. She had always been tall she said, taller than most of the boys, and was not as graceful as she would have liked. He had been socially awkward and physically uncomfortable. Neither tall nor short, thin or fat, but burdened with glasses, braces, and a mop of thick hair that was unruly when short and impenetrable when long.

That had made her smile, and she pushed her fingers through his hair.

Too much. Too fast. That was his problem. Sue hadn’t wanted to open up. She wanted to eat out, go on walks or boating trips, and she wanted to have sex. He had wanted more. When she opened up a little he had encouraged her. Perhaps he had pushed her. Either way she had snapped shut like an oyster. His fault.

She had called him desperate. An emotional leech. Perhaps she was right. He hadn’t thought he was, but he hadn’t thought he was lonely. He didn’t think he had any reason to be lonely. He had a lot of friends, he had family, and a great many interests.

Yet he was struggling to sleep. He missed talking to her. He missed her touch. It hurt to see her. It hurt not to see her.

It had been so long since he’d been in a relationship. He had thought he was used to being alone. He had only been with Sue for four months. It should have been easy to bounce back. To his real life as a single man. It shouldn’t have felt like going from the sunshine to a dank, dark cave. The cat nudged his hand.

Kent gave himself a shake and turned his attention to him. It had to be easier being a cat.

***

Ben kept trying to set him up on dates. Kent cringed just to think about it. It showed a basic misunderstanding of his personality that augured badly for choosing an appropriate partner.

Ben was gregarious. Kent was not. Kent found it difficult to talk to people he didn’t know well. Never the smoothest communicator, nerves and uncertainty made him brusque and irritable. He did badly with people he didn’t know. He had to ease into speaking to new people. He knew that he took a lot of warming up before he was personable. He wasn’t sure that he was worth anyone’s effort any more.

Sue was huddled behind her desk. That wasn’t like her. Her body language was wrong.

Kent cleared his throat. She almost ducked but caught herself and turned it into a glare.

‘What?’ she demanded.

‘Are you okay?’ he asked quietly.

She threw back her shoulders and gritted her teeth. Kent squared his shoulders, waiting for the blast. Instead she looked away and sagged.

‘I’m fine,’ she said.

Kent cocked his head. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘If you need to talk, about anything, then you can. You can always talk to me.’

He was expecting derision or perhaps confusion. He wasn’t expecting her to look away.

‘I don’t,’ she said quietly. ‘Thank you.’

He hadn’t meant to overstep. They were no longer friends, but he hoped they could be friendly.

He went back to his office but shut the door. She would come to him if she wished. If not, he didn’t wish to listen to her unhappiness.

***

Kent had dinner with Ben and Joyce. It had become a weekly ritual, mostly since Joyce seemed to think he was in imminent danger of starving to death. Kent had expected Ben to put the kibosh on it quickly, but he seemed happy enough in his own growly, grumpy way. He was nudging Kent again about dating, about getting married even, as if that would ever happen. The fact that Ben, much divorced and never faithful, was pushing marriage was hardly a good sign. Not that it was an argument with any heat since it had no value or sense. Pushing Kent to get married was as logical as pushing a new born kitten to take down a deer.

‘You’ve lost weight,’ Joyce said, shaking her head. ‘That’s very bad!’

‘A great many people work very hard to lose weight,’ Kent said.

‘Not you,’ she said. ‘You’re pining for Sue. Stop it.’

‘I’m not a dead parrot,’ he murmured.

‘What?’

‘Nothing.’

Kent was gripping the steering wheel tightly as he drove home.

He would bow out of dinner next week. It wasn’t doing him any good talking about Ben’s health problems, listening to Joyce gossip about people he didn’t know, or having both of them gang up on him about dating, Sue, or some other random topic. His time was valuable. There were lots of other things that he could do. Things that were less stressful. Less challenging.

He got home, collected his mail, let himself in, and turned on the television. He wasn’t going to listen particularly, but he liked it as background sound. He threw the mail on the table, kicked off his shoes, and poured himself a scotch. As he sipped the Scotch he went upstairs, pulling off his tie. He got undressed in the bathroom and ducked into the shower. He closed his eyes as the water poured down his face and body.

Perhaps it was time to consider alternative employment. He was reluctant to leave as he was always reluctant to change even a situation that had soured. He had never liked change and the older he grew the more difficult it became for him. Nonetheless, he wasn’t out of options. He had connections. He had some money put aside. He could return to polling or start a consultancy. He could be his own boss. That was appealing. No Selina Meyer and her hysteria. No Sue and her snarling.

No Sue.

It should have felt like relief. Instead it felt like a punch in the stomach.

Was it worse to continue in misery or start over and risk the unknown? Kent shook his head. Melodrama. How ridiculous. He wasn’t a teenager.

He’d look into alternative job prospects. That was the best idea. Meyer was sinking and, in any event, had no respect for him.

Kent didn’t have to put up with this. Right. It wasn’t much but it was the beginning of a plan.

Kent got out of the shower and begin drying himself off.

His cell started to ring. He picked up the cell and frowned at the display.

Sue?

It had to be a mistake. Nonetheless he answered the cell. ‘Sue?’

‘Can you come pick me up?’

Her toned stopped him. He’d never heard it from her before. It was quiet and shaky.

‘Where are you?’ he asked.

‘Police.’

‘Police?’

‘I’ll text the address,’ she said. She paused and heard her quick unsteady breaths. ‘Will you come?’

‘Yes.’

***

He’d been young once. He had done silly things, foolish things. He had pulled up by the cops a few times. Nothing major. He had never been arrested although he had done things that could have gotten him arrested. He had grown better at subverting the rules, better at getting away with it, but he never stopped doing it.

Sue was in a waiting room. She wasn’t obviously injured. He let out a huge breath and leaned back against the door.

‘Hey,’ he said.

She gave him a nod and got to her feet. She was wearing pyjamas and slippers with a shawl around her shoulders.

He took off his coat and held it out to her. She looked at it blankly. ‘It’s cold out,’ he said.

‘Oh.’

She didn’t offer any explanation as they walked to his car. He noticed her cheek was slightly swollen. He touched her fingertips, a delicate, fluttery movement, and after a moment she slipped her hand into his.

Outside it had begun to rain, a heavy summer shower with raindrops bouncing off the buildings.

‘Stay here, I’ll bring the car around,’ he suggested.

‘Okay.’

It was disconcerting. She wasn’t an acquiescent woman. Even when she agreed with something it was usually active not this passive compliance.

Kent scrambled out of the car to hold the door open for her. She got inside and leaned against the door.

‘You didn’t have to do that,’ she said as he started the engine.

‘I was already soaked. I couldn’t get any more wet.’

The car slowly grew humid as the rain evaporated from their clothes. Sue wiped the steam from her window. She looked out into the gathering dusk.

‘Do you want to talk about it?’ he asked.

‘No.’

‘Okay.’

He heard her sigh and shift in the seat.

‘I’m hungry,’ she said.

Kent drummed his fingers on the wheel. ‘Not sure how many restaurants are catering for the pyjamas and slippers crowd.’

Sue tried to scowl but couldn’t resist a smile. ‘Ass.’

‘I could call somewhere for takeout,’ he said. ‘Or get something delivered.’

‘Would you eat with me?’

‘Sure,’ he said. ‘I can always eat.’

She gave him a once over. ‘You’ve lost weight. You should eat.’

‘You sound like Joyce.’

‘That’s because she’s right.’

***

They got takeout from a Thai place near Sue’s and drove the short distance to her home with the spicy fragrance leaking out of the boxes.

There was a boot print on Sue’s front door. A man’s boot, Kent thought, or a woman with extremely large feet. Sue narrowed her eyes but said nothing.

Inside the house was normal. It was quiet and tidy. Sue’s purse was on the couch. A cold half-cup of coffee was on the coffee table.

‘I’ll get plates,’ she said.

Kent sat on the couch. The house had a hint of Sue’s scent. He looked at the artwork on the walls. He’d never had the time before. Sue would bring him inside for sex and then afterwards asked him to leave. They didn’t sit, eating and chatting. He had always tried to talk to her. To have her talk to him. She had only a sporadic interest in anything of that nature.

Sue handed him a plate. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Your face thinks that you’re a liar,’ she said.

He opened the takeout boxes. ‘I was thinking that when we dated we wanted fundamentally different things. I wanted a partner. A soulmate. You wanted to get laid.’

She sat down heavily. ‘That’s not fair.’

‘I didn’t say there’s anything wrong with that,’ he said mildly.

Sue looked away. ‘Nobody over the age of thirteen talks about soul males,’ she said.

‘I do.’

‘Well stop. It’s ridiculous.’

He shrugged and started to eat. She could think what she wanted. She didn’t owe him her good opinion and he no longer craved it. They weren’t lovers. They weren’t even friends.

‘I was on the rebound when we dated,’ she said.

‘Aren’t you always?’

She glowered at him. He shrugged.

‘You’re never single for more than a few days,’ he said.

She poked her food viciously with her fork. ‘Sean was supposed to be the love of my life.’

‘I have no desire to hear you talking about how much you love some other guy.’

Sue stared at him.

Kent sighed. ‘Sore subject.’

‘Because you loved me, but I only wanted sex?’

He shrugged. ‘As I said, we wanted fundamentally different things.’

She drew her feet up onto the couch and sat cross-legged.

‘You don’t believe that.’

‘I do.’

‘You think I’m angry about the failure of a relationship I didn’t care about?’

He looked at her. ‘Maybe. You’re a pretty angry person.’

‘There’s a difference between needing time to get to know someone and only being interested in sex.’ She pushed back her hair. ‘You never asked me about myself.’

He licked his lips. ‘I didn’t wish to push. I’ve been told I pry.’

‘Oh.’ She nibbled some food. ‘You went too far the other way.’

He nodded. ‘Right.’ He played with his fork. ‘You probably think I wasn’t interested but I was. I found you fascinating.’

She was flattered by that. He hadn’t expected it. It was always so difficult to tell what would appeal to her ego.

Sue smiled slightly. ‘You could ask me something.’

‘Hmm.’ Kent played with his fork. ‘I know you don’t like movies. Do you like to read?’

She nodded. ‘I prefer the classics.’

‘Classics as in Dickens and Alcott or Homer and Ovid?’

‘Too much war and rape in Homer and Ovid,’ she said. ‘I’m sure you can imagine what I think of Dickens.’

Kent took a bite of food. ‘Sentimental? So broadly characterised as to be nearly cartoonish?’

‘Don’t forget repetitive and florid.’

He snapped his fingers. ‘I always forget those.’

‘Have you ever read Austen?’ she asked. ‘I’m sure you’ve read Alcott.’

Kent waved his fork. ‘I once wrote a literature essay comparing them. Unmarried women writing romances with strongly satirical undertones. Although Austen was more overt. Do you have a favourite novel?’

Sue thought about it. ‘It’s a novella, but _Behind a Mask_ is my favourite. A governess inveigles her way into a wealthy family by lies, charm, and trickery.’

‘I found it rather depressing,’ Kent admitted.

‘She succeeds,’ Sue said. ‘The wicked woman wins.’

‘But Alcott didn’t. She had to churn out sickly sentimental nonsense when she clearly was more interested in something darker.’

Sue snorted. ‘People do jobs they loathe for the money. You were hardly Selina’s greatest fan when you began working for her.’

‘True,’ he said. ‘But I have hobbies and interests. I have ways to express myself intellectually and creatively. People in that time period, women especially, had few options that way.’

Sue nudged his leg. ‘Do you have a favourite?’

‘Of the time? I suppose _Persuasion_.’

She frowned. ‘But they wasted years of their lives. They resigned themselves to lives of quiet misery and desperation believing they would never fall in love again.’

Kent nodded. ‘That’s why I like it. People make mistakes. They have regrets. Life isn’t love at first sight and fairy tale weddings. I’ve made mistakes. I have regrets. I’m far too old and too scarred to believe in happy ever after.’

Sue pursed her lips. ‘They do get back together at the end.’

He nodded. ‘Sure. It’s a book. Fiction needs a good ending. It doesn’t necessarily have to be a happy one, but it has to be satisfying. Real life doesn’t have satisfying conclusions. Messy breakups. Lingering pain. Baggage. Fiction is supposed to make sense even if it’s not fair. Real life almost never makes sense.’

‘And it’s never fair.’

‘No.’ He licked his lips. ‘What happened to your door and your face?’

‘You know what happened,’ she said quietly.

‘Who?’

‘Doesn’t matter,’ she said. ‘We went out a few times. He got aggressive. I declined further dates and so he harassed me. It’s nothing new or original.’

Kent shook his head. ‘They arrested him?’

‘He tried to break in, threw a punch at me, and drew his gun on the police.’ She shrugged. ‘He’s fortunate arrest was all they did to him.’

Kent started to reach for her but stopped himself. No. He didn’t have the right to touch her. Instead he stood up.

‘Where are you going?’ she asked quickly.

‘It’s late I should –’

‘You could stay,’ she said. She tried to smile. ‘Or do you have someone waiting at home for you?’

‘Just the cat.’ He took a step back. ‘Do you have a guest room? I don’t do well sleeping on couches.’

Sue stood up. ‘That’s not what I was asking.’

He nodded. ‘Yeah, I know.’

She folded her arms. ‘So, this is what?’

‘You’re scared,’ Kent said gently. ‘You’re shaken up. It wouldn’t be right. I’d be taking advantage.’

‘I’m not a child. I’m not drunk, and you don’t have some kind of authority over me.’

Kent touched her hand. ‘Sue, please don’t make this more difficult. I’m trying to do the right thing. If you’re nervous, if you’re uneasy, then I’m happy to stay the night. Just not in your bed.’

‘I’ve made a fool of myself,’ she said tightly.

He shook his head. ‘I would love to make love to you but not when you’re scared and shaken up.’

Sue rolled her eyes. ‘Never say that again.’

‘Okay,’ he said meekly.

‘I’ll show you the guest room,’ she said.

He followed her upstairs and into a room he’d never been in before.

‘Thank you,’ she said quietly.

‘You’re welcome.’

Her lips twitched. ‘Don’t be cheeky,’ she said.

‘That wasn’t polite?’ he asked innocently.

‘Not the way you said it.’ She kissed him softly. ‘We’ll talk more about this tomorrow.’ She walked to the door.

‘You might change your mind,’ he said.

She shook her head. ‘You’re assuming that breaking up with you was easy and that I didn’t regret it. You’re wrong.’

‘Oh,’ he said softly.

‘Goodnight, Kent.’

‘Goodnight, Sue,’ he said.

He definitely wasn’t going to sleep now.

The End.

 


End file.
